


Mixing Business with Pleasure

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [35]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Boys In Love, Businessman Derek Hale, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Derek Hale, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff and Smut, Hairy Derek Hale, Large Cock, M/M, Nipple Play, Older Derek Hale, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spanking, Sub Stiles Stilinski, Top Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: Derek is a corporate hotshot who needs to get away from the stress of his job for a while. He rents a house in Beacon Hills and quickly picks up a not-so-secret admirer in Stiles Stilinski, whose dad rented to him. The admiration goes both ways.





	Mixing Business with Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Camellia_Hale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camellia_Hale/gifts).



> As always with this series, don't judge me for the depravity I have written…

Derek Hale can already feel himself relaxing as he drives through the town of Beacon Hills in his fancy black rental car. He peers through the windows every time he can risk looking away from the road, just observing all of the differences between this town and New York City, where he has lived and worked his entire life—and at almost forty years old, that's a very long time. Beacon Hills is still reasonably busy during this time of day, the mid-afternoon sun shining high and bright in the clear blue sky, but it's quieter than Derek is used to. It's just what he needs.

He enjoys living in The Big Apple for the most part, but the constant hustle and bustle does get tiring. That's why he's here: to get away from his stressful job and all of the noise.

It took Derek nearly having a nervous breakdown to finally admit that he needed a break, but he did, and now he has two blissful weeks of freedom ahead of him with no plans, no commitments and—best of all—a nice big house all to himself in the middle of the nature preserve on the edge of town. He doesn't know how his assistant found the place, but from the pictures she'd shown him he is sure it will be the perfect location in which he can unwind.

Eventually, Derek makes it through the main part of town and enters the residential area. The car's built-in GPS gives him directions in a soothing voice, to which he pays just enough attention not to get lost. The rest of his focus is on the people he can see in their front gardens. There are women gardening with cliché sun hats on their heads. Children run and laugh loudly through sprinkler systems. Two teenage boys pass a soccer ball back and forth, both with their shirts off. There is even an elderly couple lounging on a swing seat that hangs from the wrap-around porch of their house. All of it's so damn wholesome and domestic, a far cry from the dirt and grime of NYC.

For a moment, Derek gets stuck on the thought that it would be nice to settle down here, but then he chides himself and forgets about it. This is just temporary.

Trying to hold onto his relaxed mood, Derek keeps driving until he is out of the residential streets and on roads lined on either side with thick trees. He almost misses the turnoff that leads toward the house he'd rented. Only the GPS saves him from having to backtrack, and then he is easing down a long, bumpy road and emerging in a large clearing.

In the centre is the house of his dreams.

At two storeys tall, Derek knows the square footage is impressive but doesn't recall the exact number off the top of his head. The outside is panelled with dark wood. On the ground floor of the facade there are two bay windows which give peeks into a living room and a dining room, and up on the first floor the windows are triple casements. Like the elderly couple's home, this house has a wrap-around porch made of wood that's painted a pleasant dark-green. The front door is sturdy and made of dark wood, and there, standing on the steps leading up the porch, is the man Derek's assistant told him he'd be meeting.

From the very short phone call they'd had, Derek knows almost nothing about him except that his name is Stiles Stilinski, and he works for his dad's real estate agency.

"Mr. Hale?" the man calls, walking down the steps when Derek exits his rental car.

"That's me," Derek responds.

"My name's Stiles. It's nice to put a face to the voice."

As he shakes the hand Stiles proffers, Derek has to agree.

Up close, Stiles is stunning. At around the same height as Derek, Stiles seems somewhere in his mid-twenties. His brown hair is short, his body svelte, and the pale skin of his face is dotted with moles that Derek wants to trace with his tongue. He wonders if they continue below the neck of Stiles' red plaid shirt before dismissing the thought. He shouldn't be thinking things like that, especially since he has to have around fifteen years on the other man.

"Would you like me to give you a tour?" Stiles asks him.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Derek assents, glad to have a distraction.

* * *

Half an hour later, after he has left Derek Hale to get settled into his new digs, Stiles returns to his own house and is immensely proud of himself.

That he managed to remain professional around Derek is definitely an accomplishment.

What. A. _Hunk_.

Stiles has never thought he had a thing for older guys, but _damn_ , Derek woke something up inside him, some long-buried desire or kink or whatever, that almost had him sinking to his knees and calling the older man, "Daddy." Derek was the definition of a DILF—only, presumably, without a kid.

Surprisingly, his eyes were the first things that caught Stiles' attention. A beautiful hazel colour, the sun beating down on them had made them sparkle, given them an almost ethereal glow. Next, Stiles noticed the rest of Derek's stupid face. His features were pretty yet rugged, his strong jaw accented by neatly trimmed facial hair that Stiles wanted to feel scraping over the sensitive skin on his neck and the insides of his thighs. Derek's beard was mostly dark, but here and there the bristly hairs had turned grey, which only made him hotter. It was the same with the hair on his head. He was greying at the temples, which, when combined with the crow's feet on the outsides of his eyes, gave him a distinguished, experienced look that made Stiles' breath catch in his throat.

And Derek's body…Stiles could wax poetic about it.

Even when clothed, it was clear that Derek took amazing care of himself. His tight grey henley hid nothing, clinging to the muscles of his broad chest and beefy arms. His jeans were similar, tight and leaving almost nothing to the imagination. The crotch bulged with what must be a very nice dick, and as Stiles was showing Derek around the house he'd got more than one look at his perfectly sculpted ass.

Every inch of Derek was a walking, talking wet dream. So yeah, it was a miracle that Stiles didn't embarrass himself horribly and beg Derek to pin him down and fuck the shit out of him right in the middle of the spacious living room.

He wonders if Derek would have been down for that before he shakes his head. Derek is likely straight, because that would be just Stiles' luck.

With a deep sigh, Stiles resolves to forget about Derek Hale and his sexy…everything. The older man is a client and it would be highly inappropriate for anything to happen between them anyway; his dad would kill him, and there would be no way for the fantasy to live up to the reality. For all he knows, even if Derek does swing his way, he's one of those powerful men who like to have said power taken from them in the sack. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Stiles doesn't judge, and he believes people should do whatever they want in the privacy of their own bedrooms, as long as everyone consents. It's just that Stiles doesn't want to be the one with the power.

He's known that since he discovered his bisexuality all the way back in his sophomore year of high school. After extensive…research…he'd found himself constantly going back to the videos where smaller, younger guys were held down and fucked mercilessly by big muscular brutes who were at least a decade older. It's a hot fantasy that Stiles hasn't been able to experience in real life yet, but he still has hope. It just won't be Derek Hale giving it to him how he wants.

And he's okay with that. Really, he is.

* * *

Stiles lasts two days before he cracks.

The draw he feels to Derek is just insurmountable. He can't stop thinking about him, no matter what he tries, and it's just made worse when they bump into each other at the grocery store.

"Hey," Derek greets him with a friendly wave.

Today the bearded man is dressed in a pair of black running shorts and a loose blue tank top, baring his muscular arms and delightfully hairy legs. Sweat glistens on his skin and sticks his dark hair to his forehead. Stiles guesses that he must have popped into the store on his way home from a run. He stares at him for far too long to be polite before he returns the greeting. His voice comes out hoarse when he says a simple, "Hi," and he can feel all the blood not already in his dick rushing up to his face, showing off just how much Derek's simple presence is affecting him. Great. Fucking great.

"You okay?" Derek asks him. From the ghost of a smile on his lips, Stiles knows that Derek has already correctly sussed out what's wrong with him.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," he responds. Where the hell is his professionalism now? He could really use it.

"You sure? You look a little flushed there."

_And now he's teasing me with a stupidly attractive twinkle in his eye._

"I'm fine. It's just…hot, y'know?" Stiles lies. It's only when Derek's smile widens into a pleased grin that he realises how the pause in his words could change their meaning. He swears he just means to make a simple correction, but what comes out is a stream of revealing words and he hates how he can't make himself stop. "Hot as in the temperature, not you! Not that you're not hot, 'cause you are. I mean—fuck, you're _super_ hot. The things I'd let you do to me—oh my God! And I'm gonna stop talking now and leave before I say anything else because I've already said too much and I'm super sorry. Uhh…yeah. Leaving now."

Stiles turns and hightails it out of the aisle. He dumps his half-filled basket on the floor and runs until he is outside and in his Jeep, at which point he bangs his head several times on the steering wheel. "God job, Stiles…you probably freaked him out."

He waits there in the parking lot long enough to calm down, and then he drives back home.

He'll just order in tonight.

* * *

Still in the grocery store, Derek stares at the spot Stiles had just occupied and can't quite stop the grin that stretches his lips.

Interesting.

When Stiles was giving him a tour of the house he's staying in, he hadn't been able to tell if the younger man had wanted him back. A few times, he thought he'd caught a lustful glimpse thrown his way, but they were replaced by pleasant but distant expressions before he could be sure. Now Derek has his answer, and he couldn't be happier about it.

Maybe he'll have more to do here in Beacon Hills than just relax.

* * *

The next day, Stiles drives to the house his dad had rented to Derek and taps his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. He'd got a call half an hour ago about something being wrong with the kitchen sink, and, fool that he is, he'd agreed to come out and take a look instead of just calling a plumber like he should have. He just can't resist another excuse to see Derek in person, even though he hasn't fully recovered from how he'd embarrassed himself in the grocery store.

What can he say? He's apparently a glutton for punishment.

Besides, he has a toolbox and has be able to take care of some things around his own house without anything going wrong, so he might be able to handle it himself.

Maybe.

When he arrives at the house and gets out of his Jeep, the first thing he sees is Derek working out on the porch. Shirtless.

Stiles gapes as Derek does some pull-ups while hanging from the edge of the porch overhang. The older man would have obviously heard him coming and has to be aware of his presence now, but he doesn't stop. Stiles isn't one to waste a golden opportunity like this, so he keeps standing there and doesn't interrupt as Derek continues to repeatedly pull himself up. All of Derek's muscles are tensed and in stark relief beneath the mid-morning sun, so nothing is hidden from Stiles' eager gaze. He'd known that Derek had a great body just from seeing it beneath his clothes, but that knowledge did nothing to prepare him for actually seeing the bearded man's torso bared to him like this.

Derek's skin positively glows. With a healthy-looking tan, his chest is broad and covered in a field of dark hair. His nipples are the perfect size, nice and suckable. They're not too small but they're not too big either—and, thinking that, Stiles feels a bit like Goldilocks, someone young and innocent who is encroaching on the territory of someone much bigger and stronger than him. It seems like the perfect analogy, even if Derek isn't actually a bear in the gay sense; he's not husky enough for that, doesn't look like he has even an ounce of fat on him. Maybe a wolf instead.

Lower down, Derek's abs flex and contract every time he pulls himself up and lowers himself again. Stiles spends quite a bit of time watching them, entranced, before he moves his eyes even further down and zeroes in on the soft dick he can see through the thin material of the loose shorts Derek is wearing—the only stitch of clothing he has on. He must be going commando, and from his position next to his Jeep Stiles can tell that Derek is packing something big. He really wants to know just how big the older man is when he's hard.

Stiles bets he's _huge_. Even while soft, he is sure it'd be a mouthful.

Just when he has finished lusting after him, Derek does one last pull-up and drops back down to the porch.

"Hey, thanks for coming," he says. His breathing is slightly laboured as he wipes sweat from his brow.

"No problem, D—!" Stiles only just catches himself before the wrong word can slip out and embarrass him all over again. "N-no problem, Derek." He holds his toolbox over the front of his chinos to hide the erection that had formed while he was busy staring and attempts and fails not to linger on the fact that he'd really wanted to end his sentence with the word 'Daddy'.

"Come on inside," Derek beckons, turning and walking to the front door.

Stiles stares so hard at his tight ass in his thin shorts that he almost trips up the steps. Luckily he catches himself before he can break his nose, and Derek seems none the wiser.

"So…kitchen sink?" Stiles asks when they're both in the foyer. This close he can smell the amazingly masculine musk emanating from Derek, and it's hard to concentrate. "What exactly's the problem? You didn't really say on the phone."

To Stiles' surprise, Derek looks bashful and scratches at the back of his head, a nervous tic. "Actually…I lied."

"Huh?"

"I lied. There isn't a problem with the sink."

Stiles blinks a few times before responding. "Why would you do that?" He is glad when no judgment creeps into his voice, only curiosity.

Lowering his arm back to his side, Derek takes a deep breath that puffs out his hairy chest and then exhales again. "I wanted to see you again, and I couldn't think of another excuse to get you over here," he answers honestly. He stares straight into Stiles' whiskey-coloured eyes, and the desire on his face means there is no room to misunderstand his meaning.

All Stiles can do is gape. "You did?"

"Yes. A lot."

"But…why?"

In spite of the fantasies Stiles had been having almost nonstop since their first meeting, never did he think something like this would actually happen. It's like something out of his wildest dreams, a hot older man all but propositioning him into bed. And Stiles wants to let him—he _really_ wants to let him—but he is still bemused. A man like Derek—sex personified—shouldn't want a man like Stiles—scrawny, clumsy and unable to shut his mouth. He doesn't have enough self-esteem to see how on earth they could ever go together.

And yet Derek continues to stare amorously at him.

"You wanna know why?" The bearded man takes a few steps closer and licks his thin lips.

Stiles nods slowly, unable to speak at all now.

"Because I think you're gorgeous. I came here to escape the stress of my job and New York for a while, and I think bending you over my couch or even my lap would be a great stress-reliever. Don't you? Unless you didn't mean what you said yesterday."

Stiles cringes as he recalls his unfortunate babbling. Or maybe it was fortunate, because he would never have had the balls to say any of that intentionally and it has apparently led to a living wet dream.

"I meant it," Stiles replies, only just keeping his voice steady.

"Good. Because I'd really like to kiss you now."

"Okay."

Derek closes the rest of the distance between them, cups Stiles' face with both hands and brings their lips together. It's sweet and soft at first, but it quickly devolves into something fiery and passionate. Derek licks across the seam of Stiles' lips, seeking entrance, and when he is given it he basically devours the younger man.

Stiles has never been kissed like this before. He's had kisses just as desperate and fervent, but they were sloppy and kind of disgusting because neither party was particularly experienced back then. This kiss is nothing like that. Derek moves his mouth with expert skill and his beard scrapes deliciously over the smooth, sensitive skin of Stiles' face, making his knees go weak. It's all he can do to grip onto Derek's fantastic biceps so he doesn't melt into a puddle of goo on the floor.

He can do that later.

After a few minutes of this, Derek moves his hands from Stiles' face to cup the backs of his thighs and pick him up. Stiles' legs automatically wrap around Derek's waist and they continue to kiss as Derek walks them upstairs and into the master bedroom. Derek kicks the door shut behind them with a loud slam and then basically throws Stiles onto the bed. The sheets are still rumpled and messy from when Derek got up that morning, and as he lies there on his back and watches the older man crawl up over him like a predator, he inhales deeply and realises that he is surrounded by Derek's scent. It comes from the man himself, of course, but it's also already embedded in the sheets. Stiles wants to cocoon himself in them and never leave.

"The things I'm gonna do to you…" Derek murmurs. He holds himself over Stiles on his hands and knees so that no part of their bodies touch. The bastard.

"L-like what?" Stiles asks, swallowing with difficulty.

"You want me to tell you?"

"Yeah…"

Derek's eyes roam up and down his body. "First, I'm gonna strip you naked and worship every inch of you with my mouth," he says, quietly like he is sharing a secret. Stiles hangs on every word. "If you're naughty and you move without me telling you, I'm gonna have to spank you. But if you behave, I'm gonna open you up on my tongue and fingers, get you ready to take my cock. Sound good so far?"

Stiles nods jerkily. "So fucking good."

"So fucking good what?"

Stiles' sex-fogged brain doesn't comprehend what the bearded man means.

Derek speaks again after a few seconds, when it becomes clear that his new lover isn't going to respond. "What should you call me?"

"Derek?" Stiles guesses.

The older man leans down and bites hard on Stiles' nipple through his shirt. "Try again."

Once the pain has lessened into a pleasant ache, the answer finally comes to Stiles. It's what he'd almost called Derek earlier. He is amazed that Derek wants that too. "It sounds good…Daddy."

At first, the word feels strange rolling off his tongue, but Derek's eyes become hooded and he moans quietly. "There's my good boy."

The praise sends a shiver down Stiles' spine.

"When I've got you nice and ready for me," Derek says, lifting one hand to stroke his fingers almost affectionately through Stiles' hair, "I'm gonna split you open on my cock and fuck you so hard that you'll still be feeling me days from now. I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, fill you up with my come and leave you dripping with me. You want that, baby boy?"

Stiles is so hard that he thinks he could hammer nails, no problem. "So bad, Daddy. Want you."

"Then you'll get me."

Derek kisses Stiles again, rougher this time. He bites on Stiles' bottom lip and pulls it with him when he lifts his head, only releasing it when the pain is just about to become too much. Stiles whimpers and swipes his tongue out to soothe the ache left behind and doesn't miss how Derek follows the movement with his eyes. After meeting his gaze like he is double-checking that Stiles is alright with everything he said, Derek gets to work. He is quick about stripping Stiles out of his clothes. First to go is his shirt. He all but rips it off and throws it away, neither of them giving a damn where it ends up, and then he moves onto Stiles' chinos.

Once he has the younger man naked on his bed, Derek kneels back and surveys his prize. It makes Stiles want to cover himself, but he stays lying there and lets Derek look.

"Well, look at you," the older man says huskily. "What a nice little present that's fallen into my lap."

"Daddy…"

"Shh, baby boy," Derek says, holding his index finger to Stiles' lips. "All in good time."

Stiles expects his Daddy to join him in being totally naked then, but it doesn't happen. He is disappointed because he wants to finally see if Derek's cock lives up to what he has been envisioning in his head, but the feeling doesn't last for long. It's quickly replaced by pleasure when Derek follows through on the first part of the plan he'd laid out for Stiles, leaning down again and nuzzling beneath his chin so that he can nip and suck at the vulnerable column of his neck.

Stiles tips his head back to give Derek more room to work, which encourages him to bite and suck harder. He is helpless to prevent himself from moaning and gasping like a whore. He has never been so turned on in his life, and they've barely done anything yet. Idly, he wonders if he'll even survive this encounter, or if Derek will provide him with so much pleasure that his heart will give out and he'll end up dying right on the bed. What a way to go.

At least he'd die happy.

When Stiles is sure that his neck must be nothing but one big bruise, Derek travels down and lavishes his skinny chest with the same attention.

"You've got such pretty little nips, baby," the bearded man compliments. He flicks his tongue over the one he'd bitten earlier. "All nice and hard for me."

"Y-yes, Daddy!" Stiles gasps, fisting his hands in the sheets.

Derek doesn't say anything else. Instead he seals his lips around Stiles' nipple, sucks on it and then worries it between his teeth, making it even more over-sensitised. By the time he stops, Stiles' nipple is red and just the right amount of sore to still be sexy. Derek repeats the process with its twin before travelling even further down and dipping his tongue into Stiles' bellybutton. Stiles shudders and bucks his hips up when his cock brushes over Derek's chest, which was apparently a mistake.

"Ah-ah-ah!" Derek chastises, sitting up with a frown. "What did I say about moving, boy?"

Stiles pouts. "But it felt so good…"

"I know; that was the point. But you still didn't have permission, and I warned you what would happen if you disobeyed me."

Stiles' heart beats fast with anticipation. Being spanked by Derek Hale, sex god, doesn't seem like a punishment at all. "You said you'd spank me if I was naughty."

"That's right. Now come here."

Derek moves to sit down against the headboard, stretches his muscular legs out and gestures to his lap. Stiles scrambles to get into position, laying himself across his Daddy's thighs. He can feel his Daddy's cock poking his stomach and almost drools because, yes, it feels just as big as he thought it would be. He can't wait to feel it inside him, but first…

"How many swats do you think you deserve?" Derek asks him, rubbing his palm across Stiles' bare cheeks.

"I don't know, Daddy," Stiles replies, burying his face in the bedding. It should be demeaning or even emasculating to be put over someone's lap like this at twenty-four years old, but the only thing Stiles thinks is that it's incredibly hot. He's a kinky son-of-a-bitch. "Isn't it up to you anyway?"

"You're right, baby boy. It _is_ up to me," Derek confirms, sounding pleased with Stiles' answer. "As it's only your first infraction, we'll go with ten for now."

"Okay, Daddy."

"I can't wait to see what it looks like. Your ass is so pale. I bet it's gonna turn such a pretty shade of red when I'm done."

"Daddy…"

"Get ready, baby. I'm gonna start now."

Stiles' body goes rigid with anticipation, but he takes a few deep breaths and makes himself relax again. He doesn't know much about spanking, having never been on the receiving end of one even as a child, but something tells him that all of his muscles being tensed up will make it harder to take, that it'll move the pain of the spanking from something kinky and hot to something that is actually unpleasant.

And that's not what he wants, and he believes it's not what Derek wants either. This is just a game that they're playing. A kinky game, but a game nevertheless.

The first spank is sudden and ruins the effect of Stiles' measured breaths. The pain flares bright over his left ass cheek and he hisses through his teeth. Because he wasn't expecting it, the spank doesn't really turn him on, but the second is different. He expects it this time and so, when his Daddy rains his palm down on his other cheek, Stiles cock twitches and leaks pre-come where it's pressed between his stomach his Daddy's hairy thigh. He moans.

"Naughty boy, liking his punishment…" Derek comments. His tone is mostly disapproving, but Stiles can tell it's a facade.

His Daddy likes that he likes it.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Stiles apologises. After all, he has to keep up the ruse too, doesn't he?

"Why don't I believe you?"

More spanks come then, two in quick succession over both of Stiles' cheeks. The younger man moans again and arches his back, pushing his ass back into his Daddy's palm to get more, to get him to spank him again. He needs it harder, and damn, does he get it. Derek delivers the last six spanks steadily, with confidence, each one with more power behind it than the last, until, when he administers the final one, Stiles has tears in his eyes and he is perilously close to coming undone all over his Daddy's leg. It's only because he is sure his Daddy wouldn't like it that he doesn't actually come.

His spanking done, Derek manhandles Stiles up to sit in his lap and tucks his face into his neck. "Shh, baby boy, it's over now. You took your punishment well. Everything's forgiven."

"R-really?" Stiles whispers, sniffling and latching onto Derek's chest hair with his right hand.

"Really, baby."

Derek gives Stiles a minute or two to calm down, and then he repositions them both again. He tells Stiles to lie down on his front this time and puts a pillow beneath his hips to keep his ass raised to the perfect height for him to play with.

Stiles folds his arms and rests his cheek atop them as he feels his Daddy get into place behind him, and then his Daddy pulls apart his flaming cheeks and licks up his crack without preamble. He jerks when that wicked tongue swipes over his tight hole and then returns to his perineum to do it all over again. Derek licks up the middle of his ass several more times, tasting him, and then, with one last lick, he stops when he reaches Stiles' hole and focuses his attention there.

"You taste so good, baby boy," he says, the words slightly muffled because he speaks them right against the furled muscle. "Such a sweet little hole, and it's all for me, isn't it?"

"Yours, Daddy."

"Say it again."

"My hole is yours, Daddy! All yours!"

"That's right. Gonna claim your hole, your whole body, so you remember who you belong to."

The promise taps into something deep inside Stiles that longs for connection. This is just a hookup, he knows that, but the promise of belonging to Derek is such a pretty thing that he can only get lost in it. At least for today. He'll crash back down to reality when Derek has left town and they never see each other again. It's a depressing thought.

Derek makes out with Stiles' hole, sealing his lips around the puckered rim and swirling his tongue around it in slow, sensual circles. Stiles majorly struggles to hold still and not push back onto Derek's mouth or fuck forward into the soft friction of the pillow on the underside of his aching dick, but he accomplishes it. He doesn't want to disappoint his Daddy again, and as much as he'd enjoyed the first one, he doesn't think his ass could take another spanking already.

Too soon, Derek stops eating Stiles out and shuffles away to reach for something in the drawer of his bedside table. Lube. Stiles sees the half-used tube and can't stop the whine that spills from his lips. He is so needy without his Daddy's touch, and he wants to be filled up with his cock so badly.

"Shh…almost, baby boy. Just gotta get your pretty hole all stretched out ready for me. Don't want this to hurt you. Much."

Stiles buries his face in his arms at the sound of his Daddy popping the cap of the lube. A few seconds later, he feels the tip of one of Derek's thick fingers prodding at his spit-slick hole. It slides in easily up to the last knuckle, helped along by the eager rimming Derek had given him. Stiles gasps when his Daddy crooks his finger and immediately finds his prostate. The speed is startling. Stiles has been with guys before and they usually take some time to locate that special spot deep inside. That his Daddy could find it right away is yet one more thing that speaks of his experience, of how much older he is than Stiles, how much more life he has lived.

The reminder of the fifteen-year age difference between them is arousing.

"There it is," Derek says behind him, his grin audible. He kisses Stiles' enflamed ass cheek.

One finger quickly becomes two, and Stiles is practically tortured as Derek relentlessly rubs the pads over his prostate, not giving him a reprieve. Keeping still is impossible. The only problem is that he doesn't know whether he wants to push back onto his Daddy's fingers to get more of that amazing pleasure or if he wants to pull away, to escape it so that he can get enough air in his lungs again.

His Daddy takes the choice away from him, pressing his free hand to the small of Stiles' back to pin him down with unremitting strength that Stiles could never hope to overcome.

"Stay still, baby. I'd hate to have to punish you again, and it wouldn't be a spanking. You do still want me to let you come, don't you?"

Giving a cry of alarm, Stiles lifts his head and nods ardently. "Yes! Please let me come, Daddy!"

"If you be good for me, you'll get to come soon," Derek says. " _Stay_. _Still_."

He accentuates the last words with two vicious jabs to his prostate, which only makes it harder. That's exactly the point, though, and Stiles both loves and hates him for it.

Stiles is nearly crying again when his Daddy finally adds a third finger and deems that his hole has been stretched enough to take his cock. He feels awfully empty when those three fingers leave his body, his loosened hole clenching around nothing, but his Daddy is merciful and doesn't leave him empty for too long. Just fifteen seconds later—Stiles counts—Derek crawls up over him, puts his left hand down beside Stiles' head to hold himself up and uses his right to aim the head of his cock at the younger man's entrance. He rubs it teasingly back and forth but doesn't push in yet.

"You want this, baby boy?" Derek asks, his voice sounding like he has swallowed a handful of gravel. "You want your Daddy to fill you up with his cock? A _man's_ cock?"

Stiles hiccoughs. "Yes, Daddy…want it so bad!" he begs. "Please, I'm so empty…"

"Alright baby, Daddy's got you."

Stiles really could start crying when he finally feels Derek push forward, the fat head of his cock popping past his rim. The first thrust is slow and constant, his Daddy not stopping until every inch is buried inside his body. It seems to go on forever. Stiles wonders when it will end, how many inches his Daddy has to feed him. When, eventually, he feels the scratch of Derek's pubes against his reddened ass, it's everything he could have hoped for.

He has never been made to feel so full before, not even by his biggest dildo at home.

"So good," he says, a trail of drool leaking out of the corner of his slack mouth.

"Yeah, it is," Derek concurs. He sounds just as affected by having Stiles' hole wrapped around him. "You're still so tight…"

While Stiles gets used to his thick length, Derek lowers himself down so that most of his weight presses his boy down into the mattress. At 200 pounds of pure muscle, he is incredibly heavy and hampers Stiles' breathing a bit, but he doesn't care. The weight is comforting, makes him feel close to his Daddy, like this isn't just some meaningless fuck. It's a dangerous road for his mind to go down, but he keeps indulging himself for now and soaks up the connection it gives him to Derek, however ephemeral it may turn out to be after they are done here today.

When Stiles clenches his hole around Derek's cock and doesn't feel pain, he tells him that he is ready.

"Thank God…didn't know how much longer I could wait to fuck you," Derek rasps.

He presses a kiss to the side of Stiles' neck before lifting himself up again and pulling a few inches of his cock out of his boy's hole. The thrust back in is syrupy and amazing, making Stiles' eyelids flutter and more drool escape his mouth. It's utter perfection. The true fucking hasn't even begun yet, and still Stiles is certain that he will never have better than this.

With each thrust, Derek picks up the pace until he is fucking him as hard as they both need it, the headboard banging against the wall.

"You take me so well, baby boy," Derek grunts, clamping one hand over Stiles' shoulder to hold him in place. "This isn't your first rodeo is it? I bet you bend over for every guy you see and let them stick their cocks up inside you like a filthy slut. Am I right, boy?"

"No, Daddy!" Stiles demurs between gasping breathes. "That's not true!"

"Oh, really?"

"No!"

"Then how is your hole taking my cock so well, baby?"

Stiles doesn't want to bring any of his past lovers into the conversation, so he tells Derek about his dildos. It's been a couple years since he last got fucked by a real person anyway, so he doesn't feel bad about the omission.

"Ah, that explains it then," Derek says, still fucking Stiles as hard as he can, his weighty balls smacking against Stiles'. "Your hole's so slutty that it needs something filling it up at all times, doesn't it?"

"Yes! Love being filled…"

"You'll have to show me. Bring your toys with you next time, you hear me? Want you to give me a show."

"I promise, Daddy! Just don't stop."

"Hadn't planned on it."

After a while, Derek changes things around a bit. Using his greater strength, he pulls both of them up to their knees and wraps his right hand around Stiles' neck to keep his back arched. He exerts just enough pressure to hold Stiles in place without restricting his breathing, but the threat is there. If he wanted to, Derek could easily tighten his hand and strangle Stiles, but he doesn't. It's just a display of control, of the absolute dominion he has over the younger man's body and any of the pleasure he experiences. It makes Stiles' cock leak copiously

Derek forces Stiles into a messy kiss that's all spit and teeth clacking together, but neither of them gives a damn about finesse now. It's just pure animal sex—the best kind, in Stiles' opinion. It only gets better when Derek slides the hand not currently holding his neck down the front of his torso, stopping momentarily to play with his sore nipples before going lower and finding where his cock sticks out straight and needy from his body. Derek strokes it in time with his thrusts, and in a matter of seconds Stiles is close to shooting his load all over the sheets.

"Daddy, you're gonna make me come!" he warns Derek, his eyes clenched shut.

"Not yet, baby. Hold it. Don't you dare come before I give you permission."

"I-I can't! I'm gonna…"

"Yes you can, baby. Purely because it's what I want."

Stiles whines high in his throat, a sound that speaks of his desire and how close he is to losing it. He doesn't know how, but in spite of Derek doing everything he can to push him over the edge, he manages not to come yet. Tears finally fall because of how much it takes out of him to deny himself. He doesn't have enough strength to hold back both his orgasm and his tears, so one of them has to give.

"Shh, baby, you're doing so good," Derek tells him, kissing away the salty moisture. "Just a bit longer."

"Daddy…"

When it gets so bad that Stiles believes he might scream, Derek brings his mouth close to Stiles' ear and whispers, "Come."

Stiles goes off like a freight train. His cock jerks wildly in his Daddy's grip, spraying the sheets and the pillow on which he'd been lying with jet after jet of thick seed. It seems to go on forever, his orgasm prolonged by Derek's thick cock still moving inside him, repeatedly hitting his prostate with unerring precision, and by Derek's hand. The older man keeps rubbing his index finger over the glans, until Stiles' orgasm ends and the pleasure crosses over into over-sensitised pain. Derek releases Stiles' cock then and pushes him back down, smearing his front with the mess he just made.

"My turn…" his Daddy growls.

He pins Stiles down with both hands on his shoulder blades and fucks him mercilessly, simply chasing his own release. All Stiles can do is lie there and shake, choked sounds being forced from his lips with every one of Derek's thrusts. It's too much, but he doesn't ask his Daddy to stop. His body is Derek's, so Derek can do whatever he wants with it.

Following a series of thrusts that get jerkier and more uncontrolled, Derek sinks his cock into Stiles' body one last time and stays buried to the hilt as he shoots his come up in Stiles' guts, claiming him from the inside. He collapses on top of Stiles, all of his weight falling on him this time, but Stiles is too tired to do anything about it. He just breathes as best he can until his Daddy recovers and rolls off of him, his softening cock slipping out of his ass with what feels like a torrent of jizz.

"Damn, that was amazing," Derek says, catching his breath.

Stiles hums his agreement and blinks sleepily at him.

When Derek has come down from his high, he shifts to kneel next to Stiles' head, putting his half-hard cock right in his face.

"Clean me up, baby boy," he instructs, running his fingers through Stiles' hair.

Even though all he wants to do is go to sleep, Stiles obeys. He picks his head up off the bed and opens his mouth so that Derek can put his cock inside it. It's the first time Stiles is seeing it, and he feels his own dick twitch beneath him when, just before it goes in his mouth and out of sight, he sees that his Daddy is uncut.

Ever since he discovered he liked guys too, he has had a bit of an obsession with foreskin, so he pays special attention to it as he sucks lazily on Derek's flagging erection. His eyes close as the bitter taste of his Daddy's come bursts across his taste buds. Come is an acquired taste, but luckily for Stiles, he acquired it a long time ago and it's a bit humiliating just how much he loves it now. He is greedy for it, sucking harder on Derek's cock like he can get it hard again and receive a fresh load right down his throat. From the chuckle he hears from the man, Derek suspects what he is up to.

"Not yet, baby boy," Derek tells him softly. "At my age, I can't get it up again that quick."

 _Shame,_ Stiles thinks.

He slides his tongue beneath his Daddy's foreskin to make sure he has cleaned up any come that got caught under it, and then he lets Derek's cock slip from his mouth.

"Good boy," his Daddy says. Again, the praise makes Stiles' chest feel warm.

Derek lies down next to him then and pulls the sheets up over them from where he'd flung them to the foot of the bed that morning. Once they are covered, he draws Stiles close and kisses his sweaty temple. "You did so well."

"Thank you, Daddy…" Stiles mumbles, close to falling under now, especially with Derek's arms around him.

"Rest," Derek orders, obviously able to tell. "We'll go again later."

"Okay."

In the space of ten seconds, Stiles is out.

* * *

Derek and Stiles continue their fling for the entire duration of Derek's stay in Beacon Hills. When time is up and the older man leaves, Stiles is left bereft, like he has lost a lover.

Everyone around him can tell that something is wrong—his dad, his best friend Scott, even his neighbour who he hardly ever speaks to. He just can't help it. He's never been very good at hiding his emotions, so he can't hide how much he misses Derek with everything he has. He feels a bit pathetic because of it, because Derek was just a fling, right? It didn't mean anything that they found themselves staying awake after fucking just to talk for a while, swapping tales from their pasts and making each other laugh. It didn't mean a damn thing. Derek still left.

Stiles will get over him.

He will.

As more time passes, Stiles' dad starts to act weird. Secretive. Stiles can tell he isn't being told the truth when he asks what's going on and his dad says, "Nothing."

At first, Stiles has his suspicions that maybe his dad is seeing someone but doesn't want to say anything to spare his son's feelings. It's thoughtful, but Stiles doesn't think it's necessary. It would make him a bit happier if he knew that his dad was happy.

The truth is finally revealed about a month after Derek went back to his life in New York. Stiles' dad calls him into work on a Saturday morning, which is unusual because that's Stiles' day off and it's never happened before. His curiosity mounting as he walks inside the building and makes his way toward his dad's office, Stiles is in for the shock of his life when he knocks, is told to enter, and he finds someone else in there too. It takes a moment for Stiles' brain to process it, but when the mystery man sitting in one of the chairs in front of his dad's desk turns around and looks at him with a shy smile, Stiles can't breathe.

"Derek?" he asks, his voice cracking. "W-what…what's going on? How are you here?"

"Sit down, son," his dad tells him, pointing to the empty chair next to the one Derek occupies.

Once Stiles is in place, his dad speaks again:

"I have some news," he says, his eyes gleaming with joy.

"What is it?"

"I've decided to sell one of our rental properties."

"To who?"

It's a very stupid question. As soon as Stiles asks it, he knows the answer. He just doesn't dare believe it.

"To me," Derek responds, getting his attention again.

Stiles worries at his bottom lip. "You bought the house in the preserve?"

"I did."

"When did this happen?" Stiles looks between Derek and his dad, lost.

"When he left," his dad starts explaining, sitting back in his chair, "I saw how much it changed you. You missed him. While initially I didn't really approve of the age difference between you, you're an adult and I could tell there were genuine feelings there. So…I called Derek, and we ironed some things out."

"I was going to call him myself," Derek takes over, "but he beat me to the punch."

"So we worked out a deal, and now the process is underway to put the house in his name."

Stiles turns back to Derek, hope blooming in his chest. He notices how there are a few more grey hairs at Dereks' temples than there were when he left. Stiles loves them. "So you live here now?"

"It was tough to work it out with my job," the bearded man responds, his gaze never leaving Stiles', "but we reached an agreement. I can't be here all the time. I'll still have to take business trips every now and then, but for the most part, they agreed that I could work remotely. So yeah, I guess you could call me Beacon Hills's newest resident."

Stiles stares at Derek for a few seconds, and then he launches himself out of his chair and into Derek's lap. He slams their lips together and then hugs him tight. "I can't believe you did this…"

"Believe it," Derek murmurs, holding him back just as fiercely. "I missed you too."

It seems crazy to Stiles that there is such a deep connection between them after just two weeks of getting to know each other, but that's what happened.

"Okay, now that we've got that hammered out," Stiles dad says, "you two crazy kids get out of here. I've got work to do."

"Yes, Sir," Derek assents. He lets Stiles get up and then takes his hand so that they can walk out of the building together.

"What now?" Stiles asks him when they're outside. He clutches his hand and doesn't want to ever let go.

"We've got some lost time to make up for, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah."

"How about I take you out on a date?" Derek suggests. "Something I should've done weeks ago."

Stiles grins. "I'd love that!"

"And then…" Derek pulls Stiles close and brings his mouth to his ear. When he speaks again, his voice is lascivious. "We'll go back to my new home and I'll make love to you again. You want that, baby boy?"

Stiles gasps. "Daddy…" God, he missed saying that.

"I'll take that as a yes, hmm?"

"Hell yes!"

"Come on, then."

Laughing happily, Stiles lets Derek drag him over to a gorgeous black Camaro in the parking lot, his heart lighter than it has been in weeks.

He can't wait to see where this thing with Derek goes.

He just knows it's going to be amazing.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a hot minute since I wrote some good ol' daddy kink, so I thought this would be a good time to bring it back. There's just something so hot to me about a big age difference, especially when the older guy is dominant. In fact, lately I've been reading a lot of gay romance books which revolve around that very thing, so I guess you could say I took inspiration from them. :P And of course, I couldn't resist giving this a happy ending. I just had to; I live to read and write these boys being happily in love… I'd like to say a big thank you to Camellia_Hale for giving me this prompt. I hope it was everything you wanted it to be. :)
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which our boys engage in some consensual somnophilia. Top!Stiles/bottom!Derek.
> 
> If anyone has a Sterek prompt they'd like to see me tackle at some point, even if you've had one filled by me before, feel free to leave it in a comment down below and I'll see what I can do. The naughtier, the better. ;)
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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